


Ends in Fire

by ijemanja



Category: Farscape, Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-19
Updated: 2008-02-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/pseuds/ijemanja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a strange place in which they have found themselves, he and Talyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ends in Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-'Into the Lion's Den' for Farscape, and post-movie for Firefly.

"Talyn," he says, "starburst."

This is how it begins.

*

Their speech reminds him of Crichton - understandable, and yet at times incomprehensible. They don't understand Crais at all. This is a problem not easily remedied, but workable nonetheless.

She is one of the first people he meets. The only one of an unsavoury selection in the local establishment who looks to hold any sort of promise.

There is strength in her bearing, and discipline. Intelligence in the way her eyes traverse the room, linger for a brief moment on his form, and move on.

Perhaps, after all, it is a sense of familiarity in this strange place that causes him to act.

"What in rutting hell was that?"

Out in the alley, decaying refuse all around, the gun aimed at his head is not the first, nor, Crais imagines, will it be the last.

He explains, first the microbes then his purpose: he is unfamiliar with these people, this place. He is looking to take on crew.

"You're lucky I'm looking to take on work," Zoe says, and lowers the gun.

*

It is a strange place in which they have found themselves, he and Talyn.

A single system, densely populated by planetary bodies; it would be claustrophobic even without its inhabitants.

Humans. Millions of them.

Once, this would have been the stuff of his worst nightmares. Now, it is home. At least for the time being.

"Ain't nothing out there," Zoe says.

"As far as your people know," Crais returns. "Which isn't far at all."

Talyn weighs in on the subject. His lights and trilling cause Zoe's weight to shift, her head tilting as she watches and listens.

"Ship eager to be on its way?"

"As he ever is."

*

His size increases, his arcing passageways reaching further, new chambers unfurling.

Zoe walks the corridors alone. She comes to know Talyn, Crais thinks, a little better every day.

She does not encourage such knowledge of herself, but Crais is aware, as Talyn is aware, of her presence, silent and steady, watchful, wary.

*

She had adjusted to Talyn's sentience with a shrug - calm acceptance of something with which these people seem to have no experience.

She doesn't ask a lot of questions.

"A ship that's living. Be expecting then it flies its own self," was all she ever had to say on the topic.

Talyn, Crais finds, does not dislike her.

*

Shortly into her stay aboard Talyn, Crais lets her know in no uncertain terms that he would be open to recreating with her.

She lets him know, in no uncertain terms, that any further advances on his part would be akin to suicide.

*

Their first encounter with Reavers is resolved quickly and efficiently.

Zoe remains tense once it is over, staring out the forward view. Slowly, she returns her weapon to its place at her hip.

"You have not witnessed Talyn's firepower before," he says.

Her reaction is understandable - he has captained a command carrier, and still finds Talyn's abilities impressive.

"And it could do that every time? Talyn could?"

"Yes. It was... a minimal threat."

She swings towards him, eyes sharp. Then she tells them of these Reavers: monsters not born, but created; the failure of the central governing body to keep them in check.

"The shipping run 'tween Newhall and the outer mining belt - heard tell of regular trouble over that-a-way," she says pointedly.

Talyn's enthusiasm is palpable, but Zoe remains grim in the face of it.

Crais nods once. "Yes, Talyn," he assures him. "Yes."

They hunt.

*

Whilst sharing a meal one day:

"You would have made a fine Peacekeeper," he tells her.

Once, it would have been the highest compliment he could bestow upon a non-Sebacean.

Now, it is simple fact, nothing more.

"My experience with keepers of the peace don't involve much in the way of anything peaceful."

"You are military, yourself. You do not see the necessity in conflict? Unfortunate though it may at times be."

"Crais," she says, "you would have made one lousy Browncoat."

*

It is a marketplace like any marketplace anywhere in Crais's knowledge of such things.

Apparently, there are rumours amongst the populace of a rogue ship leaving the wreckage of Reaver convoys strewn in its wake. Later, he wonders whether knowledge of their identity, as the crew of this avenging angel, would have determined a better outcome for their excursion.

"What did you say to them?"

"My words," he replies, throwing himself behind a cart containing vegetable produce, "are of little consequence, if they cannot understand my language."

"Most people understand tone just fine."

Her hand closes on his sleeve and hauls him away, clearing their path of escape with her pistol. He picks another off emerging from a cross-way and urges her on.

"Tone?" he says as they near the transport pod.

"Yes, Crais. Tone. Liken you'll be getting my tone right about now."

In the pod, after they have left the ground and several dead or disabled local inhabitants behind, he offers to teach her to pilot the small craft.

He thinks, for a moment, she almost says yes.

*

Talyn, as interested in their passenger as he is in anything, shows Crais what one of the DRDs has found: a printed image, hidden amongst Zoe's bedding.

"Yes, Talyn," he says. "I believe she has lost someone."

Talyn shows him another image, this one retrieved from a memory file.

"Yes," he says. "She reminds me of Aeryn, too."

*

Debris and residual radiation temporarily obscure Talyn's sensors. While the Reaver ship is no more, it is not the end of this confrontation.

"Alliance," Zoe says, referring to the ship that has suddenly appeared, comparable in size, almost, to a command carrier.

It has, Crais suspects, been lying in wait for them.

"Talyn," he says, "prepare yourself -"

*

There is little that is delicate about her; Zoe is strong, unyielding.

He wonders, were things to change, or perhaps merely with time and nothing more, if she would come to him.

He can see her in his bed, her body long and well-muscled, her hair, loose from its bounds.

He would appreciate her.

*

"We can take you to whichever planetoid you wish."

It is not long after their encounter with the Alliance vessel. Which was not, they are all in agreement, the last they shall see of them. In the meantime, Talyn is restless, looking ever outwards. They can remain here no longer.

"Ain't nothing back there for me," Zoe says, not turning her attention from the routine maintenance of her weapon. "I'll stay on, less'n you've got no more use for me."

"Talyn would be pleased to have your company," he says.

She looks up, and, for the first time in his knowledge of her, appears amused.

She regards him in this way until he admits, "As would I."

"Then let's see what's out there," she says.

She does not smile, but he wonders if, perhaps with time, she might come to appreciate him, also.

*

In command, Crais looks out at a small moon, to the field of stars beyond.

Here, in this place, they are reborn. Talyn has found peace; Crais, anonymity. But it is too small, this place, too small to hold them - a leviathan must be free.

It's enough, Crais reflects, to know that should they need to, they may always return. Not all journeys carry with them such certainty.

And, after all, they are not alone.

"Talyn," he says, as Zoe steps to his side, "starburst."

 


End file.
